The Tragic, Tragic life of Ray'ven Evergreen
by Nikki Darkspear
Summary: When I woke up, the other side of the floor was cold. My family was so poor that we couldn't afford a bed, but I try not to complain, because that's what mother would have wanted. I am Ray'ven Evergreen. This is my story.
1. The day my horrible life becomes worse

**A/N: My friend and I were really hyper when we wrote this, because we had just downed eight cups of peach "juice", aka, cups of pretty much pure sugar. Please don't charge us with your therapist bills. **

**This is a parody. Not meant to be taken seriously, nor intended to insult anyone. **

When I woke up, the other side of the floor was cold. My family was so poor that we can't afford a bed, but I try not to complain, because that's what mother would have wanted. My mother was killed in a freak medical accident, when a pregnant woman punched her.

I can never forgive myself for causing her death, and cry myself to sleep every night because of the guilt.

Looking around the tiny room that was our home, my large cerulean eyes flecked with tiny glints of silver scanned the room. I have 20/15 vision, which the doctors said was impossible. It's not. My perfect, rosebud lips shifted into a smile when I saw the small form of my sister, Poppy, lying a little ways away from me, her baby lynx named Princess curled up in her arms.

I nod, understanding. Every night, after crying myself to sleep with glistening, tragic diamond/crystal tears, I sometimes relive the horrors of my past. My screams of agony can keep my poor sister up sometimes, and she moves out of the way to avoid my tragic, flailing arms.

It is the reaping day. My perfect, alabaster skin shimmers mysteriously in the sunlight, which streams down from where the roof should be. My family is too poor to afford a roof.

My beautiful, raven black hair falls to the ground in glistening, gorgeous waves, while the occasional pink streak runs through it. They are completely natural, of course. Some people say that I am beautiful – but they are wrong. I am merely a poor, pathetic, ugly, parentless district 12 girl. My dad died in a hunting accident. He was just trying to feed my sister and I, and a guy shot him with a slingshot. He died instantly because the rock hit him in the middle of the forehead.

A single tear falls down my flawless skin, and I close my perfect eyelashes for a moment. Every day I am reminded of how terrible my life is, and how much of a curse my beauty is. You see, my father was distracted while hunting because of my beauty. I was only five then, and had peered out of the fence with my deep eyes. My father hadn't stood a chance.

After that, I learned to hunt. In only a year, I became better than my father ever was, with a spear, sword, bow and arrow, and throwing knives. I could also out-wrestle every boy in school, and most of the men. Over the years, I also discovered that I was the fastest runner in all of District 12, and probably Panem.

Sometimes I could even outrun an arrow, but that was only when my body was filled with the overpowering grief of my failure.

Getting up and going to wash my hair in the waterfall, even though I didn't need to, I heard a knock on the door. I opened it, and there stood Chad McHandsome, one of my many admirers. His perfect teeth (though not nearly as white as mine) glistening in the light.

"Please, leave," I choked out, too overcome with emotion to speak with anyone today.

"But I have brought food for you and your sister!" he offered, holding out a basket that could feed a family of twelve for a year.

"No," I spat out harshly. The last thing I needed was this boy's pity. He was mocking me – they were all mocking me. About to slam the door, I suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion overcome me. The hunger- it was getting to me.

Falling gracefully, like a fallen angel, I felt his strong arms catch me.

"Here, take it," he begged, obviously mocking me further. But I decided to accept it. Though my pride was hurt deeply, since I was so humble, I decided to take the food for poor Poppy.

As the door closed, I brought the food to the middle of the floor, where Poppy was just waking up. Princess yawned and trotted over to us, snuggling my leg. All animals love me, but being so selfless, I tried to divert her attention back to Poppy.

"Wayven," my twelve year old sister babbled, mispronouncing my name again. It is actually Raven, spelled Ray'ven. Her small size makes some people think that she is very young, but she is very mature for her age. "Food! Food! Food!"

I smiled sympathetically at her, tucking a loose strand of silken hair behind my ear.

"This has to last us until 2:00, when my other admirers wake up," I chided her gently.

My pet tiger, Sparkles, yawned and curled up beside me. He is larger than the average tiger, and has silver, glistening stripes instead of black. This is one of the reasons I named my albino tiger Sparkles. Dividing the meat between Poppy and the cats (since I am a vegetarian) I sighed with sorrow.

Eating took us until two o'clock, me nibbling tastefully on a piece of celery. The grandfather clock standing in our little shack chimed twice, telling us the time. Luckily, I knew that two chimes meant two o'clock.

"Well, we'd better get to the reaping, Poppy," I told my sister, from where she was mashing her potatoes with a fist.

"Mash, mash, mash!" she burbled, and then pointed to me with a finger. "Hair."

Isn't my sister darling? I'm gotten many compliments from people, on her intelligence. Many followed the structure of 'Wow, she's a smart one." Her soft little blouse was sticking out of the back of her skirt like a mammoth tail.

"Tuck in your tail, little mammoth!" I gently smiled, tucking it in for her.

"Wraaaaaugh! Wrraaaaaugh!" she giggles, and sounds remarkably like a tiny mammoth. Taking my sister's hand, I gently placed her onto our tiger. Then, climbing aboard myself, we set off to the reaping.

When we got to the main square, I noticed the shocked looks from the peacekeepers, and the awed ones from the crowd. At first I thought it was because of Sparkles, but then realized that everyone was overcome with emotion because of my beauty. As I got off of Sparkles, I humbly blew kisses to the crowd.

Iffle Paris, a Capitol woman with a disgusting, totally not symmetrical face and hideous green make up stepped up to the reaping balls.

"Since it is a Quarter Quell," she began in a nasally voice, "we will be selecting two boys and one girl to compete in this year's Hunger Games!"

I kept a stoic face, knowing that everyone was watching me, enraptured by my beauty. I had been through five reapings before, each of them passing me by. But, my sympathetic and humble heart was worrying not for myself, but for Poppy. It was her first reaping.

"Ladies first!" Iffle Paris squeaks, after the history of Panem is recited.

Poppy. Poppy. Her name was only in that ball once, whereas mine was in there 99 times. What would happen to her if I were picked? How would District 12 go on without my kind heart, humble personality, and beautiful radiance? It would destroy them.

_Not me,_ I think, thinking of the poor people of District 12, with nothing else to live for.

_Not me, _I think, remembering my little mammoth-tailed sister.

_Not me, _I pray, my mind flashing back to my many admirers.

Iffle Paris crosses back to the podium, smoothes the slip of paper, and reads out the name in a clear voice. And it's not me.

It's Poppy Evergreen.

**A/N:** **Yeah... **

**Please review! **

**Review = Cupcakes! Everyone likes cupcakes!**

**(Still hyper)**


	2. I accidentally maul a Capitol attendant

**A/N: Okay, we're less hyper now, but we just ate a whole bunch of junk. Yeah, because I'm sure you really care what we eat. Here's the next chapter, because we've got nothing better to do. **

**Just to specify, this isn't making fun of the Hunger Games. We both love the book. A lot. Rather, it's a parody of Mary Sues in general, and how they manage to make their way into every fandom. **

One time, when a pathetic sort of boy kissed me, he fainted. Later, he told me that it was as if the kiss had knocked every wisp of air from his lungs, and he lay there struggling to inhale, to exhale, and to do anything.

That's how I feel now, trying to remember how to breathe, how to think, totally stunned as the name bounces around in my skull. I'm too beautiful... She's too smart... How could this have happened?

She's looking with her mouth agape up into the forest, her eyes vacant, and her mouth babbling. Of course, everyone knows what this means. Her advanced mind is already discovering some sort of plan to get out of this. Some sort of way to destroy the Capitol, save herself and all the other tributes, without angering the Capitol.

Someone guides her to the edge of the stage, and she giggles and runs up to Iffle, poking her green hair.

"Green! Green!" she screeches.

And then, at the height of this emotional moment, when I almost felt as though my heart would break, I noticed the edge of her shirt had become tucked out from her skirt. Like a little mammoth tail.

It's this detail, the untucked blouse forming a mammoth tail, which brings me back to myself.

"I volunteer!" I announced heroically, sweeping the others out of my way with my arms. The wind played with my hair, and there was silence. No one spoke, not willing to disrupt the awesome power of my majestic sacrifice.

Striding forwards bravely, I gently moved Poppy, who began making the mammoth sounds again, off to the side. I knew she was trying to tell me something that words could not express. But my inferior mind could not comprehend it.

"Excellent!" Iffle chirped, shaking hands with me. I gripped her hand firmly, telling her that I would win this. I would destroy all others in my path, and still manage to look good.

Calling Sparkles onto the stage with my mind, I gave a smile as the crowd gasped in amazement. What, had they never seen a tiger before? Petting his beautiful head with a delicate hand, I watched as my mentor nodded and met gazes with me.

It was Chad McHandsome.

Gasping and turning away in fury, I felt my cheeks boil. He hadn't told me. He'd lied to me. To think... I'd accepted his food! Vowing to find some way to get him into the Hunger Games and kill him myself, I looked to where Poppy was twirling around, occasionally pointing at the sky and screaming with glee. I nodded, understanding. She was telling me that there was a higher plane of existence, and that to find it, we must first look deep inside ourselves to find out who we truly are.

I was snapped back to reality when Iffle stepped up to the boys reaping ball and announced, "What an exciting day! Let's see what fate has in store for us next."

She took her time rummaging through the ball, sucking all the attention in the square to herself. I sighed loudly; I only had the attention of the boys ages 14-18. How can some people go like this! I could swear that my skin was glowing less just because of the lack of attention.

Iffle drew her hand out of the ball and walked back to the podium. She glanced up from the paper and announced in a scratched, nasal voice "Hummus Baker."

My heart skipped a beat, and a hand flew to my chest. Not him. Anyone but Hummus! My cerulean blue eyes twinkled gently, as my mind flew back to a past that once was.

_Huddled in the rain, my body curled in on itself in hunger, I rummaged through the salad bar as rain pelted me mercilessly. It had been a cold, cruel night. My simple salad was bare and forlorn, tasting as bland and depressing as the sky. _

_I was starving. If I hadn't gotten food then, I don't know what would have happened. A solitary tear trickled down my face, and I stared up into the sky. Why was the world so cruel? If my father had been alive..._

_No. I would not think of what could have been. _

_My saviour came in the form of small, blond haired boy with blue eyes almost as deep and thoughtful as mine. A shrill voice followed him from inside a dressing creamery. _

"_Feed it to the cat, you stupid creature! Why not? No one decent will buy mislabelled dressing!" _

_He had a welt in the shape of Italy on his cheek, blazing bright red. Maybe it hurt as much as my heart. But then he had done something strange. Instead of moving to the incredibly fat cat lying in the middle of the yard, his glance flickered to me. _

_It was as if a blind man were seeing the sun for the first time. A look of awe and wonder came up his face, and without hesitation, he tossed me the bottle of dressing. _

_I stared at the bottle in disbelief. It was fine, perfect really, except for the mislabelled front. Did he mean for me to have it? He must have. Because it was at my feet. Before anyone could witness what had happened, I shoved the bottle under my shirt, and walked away swiftly. I clutched to the bottle tightly, clinging to flavour. _

To this day, I can never shake the connection between this boy, Hummus Baker, the dressing that gave me hope, and the cat that reminded me that you can find food anywhere.

My attention was snapped back to reality as I noticed Hummus taking the stairs bravely, the Italy shaped welt still visible on his face. He was so brave. So kind and brave and perfect. I wondered how he had ever noticed someone as ugly, plain, stupid, and pathetic as me? Someone whose life was not perfect, and was not even close to perfect herself. A tear started welling up on my thick, black, natural eyelashes. But I didn't let it fall.

There behind him, was Hummus' cat. It struggled to climb the stair after him. Gently chiding it, Hummus shook Iffle's hand as the cat rolled away.

"Ooh, lots of drama!" Iffle squealed, digging her hand into the boy's reaping ball again.

Hummus locked eyes with me, and we nodded. We were going to get through this together. I was much too pure of heart and noble to let such a kind spirited, weak boy die. His golden curls glistened in the sunlight, and I thought how there could be not a more perfect boyfriend.

But I already had a boyfriend.

And, with horror, I heard his name called next.

"Storm Hunter," she announced, and my heart froze. Not him. Anyone but him. I watched in horror as my one, true love – the only boy who I had ever loved back, climbed the stairs with a surly expression.

"Such a handsome one!" Iffle grinned, watching Storm as he moved to take his place beside Hummus. Thunder rumbled in the sky and lighting streaked across it as a cold expression came into my eye. Sometimes the weather senses my mood, and is influenced by it.

My eyes changed from a happy blue to a deep, navy blue, churning with hatred.

"You stay away from him," I murmured darkly, stepping closer. Iffle withered under my glare. Then, judging her exact location using a mix between algebra, hypotenuse angles, physics, and echolocation, I leapt at her.

All of the hatred that had been bubbling inside of me was set loose, and I clawed at her face, desperate to make her see what she had put me through. That Storm was mine, and anything else was unthinkable.

But a soft, surly voice stopped me.

"Ray'ven," Storm begged, putting a restraining hand on my shoulder, "Stop this. Save your energy."

Breathing heavily, I let my death-grip on the woman go, and flipped backwards to my spot. I had taught myself every form of martial arts when I was four, in secret. People in District 12 were sometimes wary of my combination of beauty and power, so sometimes stayed away from me. I suppose this was the price to pay for being cursed.

Standing up straight and brushing herself up, Iffle gasped a little and grabbed her microphone. Turning to the camera, she plastered on a huge smile.

"This concludes our District 12 Reaping!"

**A/N: Review please! It doesn't take long – just click that little button and share your thoughts! **

**I know it takes a lot of energy to type, but it's good exercise! **


	3. The wonderful world of warbling walruses

**A/N: I'd like to think everybody who reviewed – I'm very open to ideas to make the story even "better." **

**We're tired while writing this, so please don't sue us. **

"Goodbye, Ray'ven! We'll never forget you!" a scrawny, pimpled boy called out to me.

"I love you with all my heart, Ray'ven! You've made me who I am today!" another voice joined his.

"We'll feed your sister!"

"You're so fast and brave! Maybe you can win!"

Well, of course I would win. Humility is one of my greatest virtues, but anyone who watches the Hunger Games to find new techniques would know that they're full of wimps. Oh, boo hoo; you were just bitten by a poisonous snake. Suck it up. Oh dear, you're hungry. Get some food then! Oh my, you had to kill your best friend. That's the way the world works, princess.

Flipping my gorgeous locks of raven hair behind a shoulder, I waved goodbye to my many admirers. The train station was becoming overcrowded now, and I felt a twang of pity in my heart for those who would not get to wish me goodbye.

"We'll see them again, Sparkles," I murmured to my tiger, who was standing loyal and strong by my side. My eyes flashed to deep blue. I would win this.

Daintily brushing away a tear I had shed for the poor, soulless people of District 12, who would likely have no more reason to live once I was gone, I went inside of the train's cabin.

My advanced hearing caught a few words trailing from a nearby compartment.

"_She loves me you jerk!" _someone cried

"_Don't be stupid. She and I are meant to be!" _another voice joined.

"_Yeah, well I've gotten the most recent kiss!" _ a final voice replied.

A gasp catching in my throat, I flung open the compartment doors and leapt in between the squabbling boys.

"Stop this!" I cried, a sob hitching in my throat.

Immediately, Storm, Hummus and Chad's eyes were clouded with shame and remorse.

"We didn't mean to hurt you," Chad whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. I knew it was true, but still I could not shake the shroud of weariness and sorrow from my strong heart.

"Never," Hummus shook his head. Storm reached out a hand to take mine, and I turned away in mild anger, tears springing to my eyes. Rain began pattering the windows.

Sparkles trotted over to me and lovingly nuzzled my side, but I would not smile. The pain was too much – how could I tell two of the three boys that I did not love them? How could I break their fragile hearts by choosing one? How could they have betrayed my trust by fighting? The pain was too much to bear.

Closing my eyes, I fled the room.

Running from my pain, I only stopped running when I was sure that no one had followed me, I slammed the door of my room. No one had followed me, which was surprising, but thankful. I needed to be alone with my thoughts. I hadn't been told where my room was, but there's something that I have. It's almost like a sixth sense, where I know where things are without ever hearing of them or seeing them.

Some people in District 12 fear me because of this, and shun me at school. They're so cruel, but I forgive them every time, because I know that's the right thing to do. Even if it's hard. My mind flashed back to my previous life, the one I had now left behind for fame and fortune.

_Walking tall, proud and heartbroken on the inside through the halls of school, I heard the laughs, snickers and jealous remarks of my fellow classmates. My beauty, smarts and athletic abilities were such a curse. _

_Their taunts and cruel words followed me down the hallway. _

"_Hey Ray'ven, my birthday is tomorrow. Want to come over?" _

_She was taunting me, rubbing the fact that I needed to take care of my sister all day in my face. Last time I left her, her genius mind comprehended the exact level of safety she had without me, and realized that the only way to survive was to live with bears in the woods. Another voice joined the first, tauntingly loud. _

"_I bought you a chocolate bar, except that it has nuts in it. Do you like nuts?" _

_A tear threatened to fall from my eye, but I stopped it. Didn't he know that I was a vegetarian? _

_Another. _

"_Oh my gosh, I love your hair! Can you show me how to do it?" _

_She knew that my hair was that way naturally. She was only making fun of how I could never socialize with other girls, because I never had to fix my hair. _

_Another. _

"_Wow, Sparkles is amazing! Where'd you get him?" _

_Another. _

"_Your sister is up on the roof again!" _

_Another. _

_They pelted down mercilessly, like the large, diamond-like tears that welled from my eyes. Never stopping, never relenting. _

"_You'd better hurry – I think she's about to jump!" _

_With that last, cruel comment, I snapped back to reality. _

Burying my face into my arms, I curled in on myself. Why was life so cruel to me? What had I done to deserve this? Was I not pretty enough? Was I a failure? I started to sing, my crystalline voice carrying with it all the burdens, sorrow and depth that my life carried with it.

_Disrespect, that's all that you do to me. _

_So messed up, the way that you're treating me. _

_Brace yourself, there's something I want to you know. _

_You should know. _

I made up the words as I went along, each line flowing perfectly into the next. My voice sounded like melodic song of a Warbling Walrus. They're funny animals, and something of a slap in the face to the Capitol. During the rebellion, the Capitol bred a series of genetically altered animals as weapons.

The common term for them was muttations, or sometimes mutts for short. One was a special bird called a Quoting Quail that had the ability to memorize and repeat whole human conversations. They were homing birds, exclusively male, that were released into regions where the Capitol's enemies were known to be hiding.

After the birds gathered words, they'd fly back to the centers to be recorded. It took people awhile to realize what was going on in the districts, how private conversations were being transmitted. Then, of course, the rebels fed the Capitol endless lies, and the joke was on it.

So the centers were shut down and the birds were abandoned to die off in the wild.

Only they didn't die off. Instead, the Quoting Quail mated with Talking Turkey, creating a whole new species that could replicate both bird whistles and human melodies. They had lost the ability to enunciate words and fly, but could still mimic a range of human vocal sounds, from my beautiful tinkling laugh, to my deep, strong singing voice. And they could recreate songs. Not just a few notes, but whole songs with multiple verses, if you had the patience to sing with them, and if they liked your voice.

They were called Warbling Walruses.

When I hunted in the woods, I always sung with the Warbling Walruses, which would galumph through the forest where they lived, being particularly fond of them. I would always whistle or sing complicated songs to them, and, after a polite pause, thousands would lumber in and sing with me. Our voices melded, mine strong, rich and beautiful, and theirs somewhat scratchy. But I still loved to do it.

No one else is treated with this much respect. But whenever I sang, all the walruses in the area would fall silent and listen. My voice was that beautiful, high and clear and so filled with life that it makes you want to laugh or cry at the same time.

I was sort of sad when the last of the Quoting Quails died off. I had a friend of one once, named Pistachio. Once we had a whole conversation, mostly about Sparkles, the softness of eyebrows, and my amazing personality.

But now I was left all alone, with no Quoting Quails, Warbling Walruses, or Talking Turkeys to keep me company.

**A/N: Okay, three things. **

**We do know what a vegetarian is, don't worry. **

**The song she sung was 'Brand New You' by Miranda Cosgrove, and we do not own it. **

**We do know that Quails and Turkeys do not make Walruses. We do not care. **


	4. My perfection, Ashes, and a walrus

**A/N: Ummm... I really have nothing to say. Except, I would like to congratulate anyone who got this far in this story. **

I smile angelically as Aphrodite, a woman with fuchsia hair and silver tattoos looks me over for a seventh time.

"Sorry!" she pipes in her silly Capitol accent. "You're just so perfect; I can't stop staring at you!"

Smiling humbly and flashing a winning smile, I generously move so that she can get a better look at me. I'm very used to this sort of thing by now, and simply allow their lives to be enlightened.

"Really, I can't find a single thing wrong with you!" she makes a sympathetic yet happy face. Their work this year will be very easy.

"You're so very beautiful," says some guy named Savoury. He gives his blue corkscrew locks a shake and applies a fresh coat of orange lipstick to his mouth. "If there's one thing we can't stand, it's someone ugly!"

Aphrodite and Squidia, a plump woman whose entire body had been dyed a pale shade of periwinkle, give a sort of jealous and envious sigh.

"Well, I guess we'd better send in Ashes now! There's really nothing we can do!" Aphrodite chirps, and the three leave the room in a flurry. I wait patiently, wondering how the other tributes are doing. They're probably all beautiful, gorgeous models, while ugly old me is stuck for minutes becoming mildly pretty.

Then, just when I think I cannot wait any longer, a man with brown hair walks in.

"Hey there," he says smoothly, coming nearer. "I'm Ashes, your stylist. The others - " But before he can finish, he gives a gasp. A strange look comes over his face, as if the world is suddenly very clear. As if his path and place on Earth has become obvious. As if I am a radiant ball of radiance.

"You..." he trails off, blinking in astonishment. Then, falling to his knees, he takes my hand in two of his.

"Please... let me be your stylist. Nothing could complete my existence more." I stare into his pleading brown eyes, and know that I have the chance to truly complete someone's life. And I will take it.

"Yes. Yes you may," I reply, looking down on him with radiance.

Standing up, he clasps his hands together and looks up and down me. Shaking his head as if he'd never seen anything so beautiful, he finally gives a sigh. Why? Am I not beautiful enough? Does he wish he'd gotten another tribute? I feel tears welling up in my eyes, and I turn my head in shame.

"I can't do this," he says quietly, and I feel as though my heart might break. But he continues. "I can't follow the strict rule of relating the costume to the district. Nothing coal has to offer can properly show your true beauty. Not even diamonds."

Giving a small smile, I watch the gears in his head turn. Sparkles lies off to the side, growling a little bit when Ashes gets too close. My tiger is very protective of me, and will attack anyone else if they even come near me. But he will obey me, and I only have to give him a warning glance with my eyes to stop him.

"We will have to break the rules," he continues. "But it will be worth it. You are worth everything."

He gives a small smile, and leads me over to a lush couch. It is soft and warm, and I think briefly about moving here after I win. We sit in silence for a while, him digging into a turkey, and me nibbling tastefully on a carrot. The way he kills poor animals is so barbaric, and I close my eyes in horror as he eats.

An announcement comes on later, calling all stylists to room 114. Even though I've never been there, I would be able to walk there and back blindfolded. This is what I mean about my sixth sense.

Once Ashes leaves and I dispose of the horrid turkey, I silently cross the room to the balcony. Sweet bird songs flutter in through the window, and I hold out my finger for a bird to land on. Immediately, two birds fly in, one landing on my finger and the other falling to the ground. Compassion lacing my heart, I bend down in worry and pick the poor bird up. They both begin singing to me, and I sing the melody back. They are in awe, and fly away in a trance after I dismiss them.

Then, stepping out into the sunlight, I see the beautiful vista of the Capitol stretched out before me. My face lit up, as the familiar walrus cry met my ears. Even here, where the world was so different, I had people who loved me. My admirers.

"Pistachio Junior!" I called out in delight, seeing a Walrus that looked so familiar to the quail I once knew. This is another thing about me – I can sense animal genealogy.

The Walrus readied itself, and then, in a single bound, jumped two stories onto my balcony. Though the Warbling Walruses lost the ability to fly, they are still remarkably good jumpers.

A high guttural sound came that sounded both like a scream and a groan came from its throat. A tear came to my eye – it was just so beautiful. It was mimicking me. You see, this is how the Walrus got its name – perfectly mimicking the voices of anyone it hears.

I heard Ashes' voice coming from the room, calling me back inside. Partly wanting to stay, and partly wanting to see what he had to say, I left my Walrus.

"Goodbye, sweet prince," I murmured to him, rubbing his nose. Leaping off of the balcony, the walrus bounded away into the daylight.

"Yes, Ashes?" I called to him as I went inside.

"I have something... I think it may just begin to compliment your flawless complexion, luscious hair, beautiful body, amazing posture, full lips, kind personality, humble disposition, giving nature, athletic ability, crystalline voice..."

I held up my hand to stop him, not wanting him to go overboard. I was humble person by nature – I didn't want the games to change me. Nodding with a smile, he instructed me to hold out my hands and close my eyes.

Obliging, I did so, and then opened them when I felt a beautiful silk cloth placed onto my arms. Then, turning, running into the change room and changing in 4.34 second (a new record!), I looked to the mirror. Opening my eyes, I gave a delicate sort of gasp. There on my plain own body, was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. It was midnight black, with a thick band of hot pink polyester collecting it at the waist. After that, it swept down to about my knees, a tiny trim of the same hot pink lining it at the bottom. I swallowed back tears – it matched my hair perfectly.

A small cut traveled up one edge of the dress, adorned by pink jewels. Two thin straps held it to my shoulders, and it met on my chest in a V neck.

"Oh, thank you Ashes!" I murmured. If my voice had been less full, it would have cracked.

"That's not all," he said mysteriously. What could it be? Jewels? Mascara? No, that's silly – I don't need makeup. What else could it be then?

"They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena," he says with urgency in his tone that surprised me. "Of course, we've broken that rule as well. You will be allowed to take your tiger, and this. One thing to remind you of me. Will you wear it?"

He holds out a necklace with black and pink pearls, with a silver circular pin at the end, and I see it's a small walrus in mid-jump.

"A necklace?" I say. Wearing a token from my district is about the last thing on my mind.

"Here, I'll put it around your neck, all right?" Ashes waits for my consent, and then leans in and places the necklace around my smooth, alabaster neck.

**A/N: Yep. **


	5. Mind Journey to District 12

**A/N: Yes, it has been over a year… Sometimes I think I have long term ADHD. My friend and I wrote this the same weekend that we wrote all the others. We didn't get it finished so we didn't upload it. I'm sorry. We will get back to writing it. We promise… I sorta feel like Golem, always saying "we" instead of "I"**

I stood, proud, noble, heroic and beautiful, just like the walrus. Four tall black horses with glistening pink manes were harnessed to the chariot I stood on. Storm and Hummus stood beside me, looking decent, but obviously overshadowed by my radiance. Dressed in simple black suits with pink ties, they were simply add-ons – accessories, to compliment my beautiful air of radiance. Sparkles led the horses.

Talking to the horses with my mind, I calmed their nerves and answered all their questions about me. No, I'm not that beautiful – just a humble, caring girl who only wanted to save her intelligent sister.

Suddenly, I felt a pull on my loving heart, and felt a tear trickle down my smooth, alabaster cheek. My poor sister. Closing my eyes and feeling my psychic powers flare up, I traveled into the mind of my sister's lynx, Princess. It was a remarkably simple mind, and she growled when she felt my presence. Then, once she realized who I was, she bowed down humbly and tried not to interfere. I rewarded her with a compassionate mind kiss.

My sister sat in front of our big screen television, scraping the metal off of a frying pan with her teeth. Obviously symbolizing the deteriorating hierarchal system in district twelve, and the fluctuation of the Mayor's care for us simple folk. A tear welled up in my eye. What I wouldn't give to be there with her.

Then, a spark that I knew so well flickered into her eye, and she crawled closer to the television. Gnawing gracefully on her wrist, she watched it with awe. Then I saw why.

It was me. She was seeing me!

A crooked smile bubbled up on her face, and she stuck a grubby finger onto the screen, pointing out the beautiful black horse that was whinnying. I was right behind it, looking majestic and striking, even though you could only see my elbow.

She moved closer, and her eyes traced over me. Then she looked at the horse.

"Sausage!" she screamed in delight, and then began picking apart the carpet with her toes. I knew what she meant. She was telling me not to give up hope. That truth is found even in our darkest hours, and that never, even when it seems the most logical out, to never give up hope.

It was truly a credit to her intelligence, that she could get me to see all that with a simple word. Sausage.

**A/n: Indeed. Okay… I have a perfectly good reason for not writing this for so long… I got addicted to anime and then I used my self diagnostic skills to classify myself as insane… now I must go for I am being strangled by a pair of pajama pants that I am using as a scarf.**


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